The Engagement Part 2
by PrettyGirlWonder
Summary: Dean considers the next phase of his relationship with Castiel and consults Sam.


Dean loathed shopping malls.

He'd spent most of his life avoiding places like malls, with their overwhelming masses and glittery displays. And rent-a-cops. He _hated_ mall security.

Dean didn't usually like to think about it, but the truth was he'd spent his whole life on the run. Most of the time he was running to something—a case or a monster or some otherworldly disaster he had to stop. But there were times, more than he cared to admit actually, when he was running away. From the cops or the feds or—and this one was the most common—from people who got too close. In any case, the life of a hunter wasn't full of trips to places of public commerce unless it was absolutely necessary and Dean felt like a blind man at an art gallery: out of place and aimless.

Thank God for Sammy. It usually annoyed Dean how socially correct his younger brother was, but today he was grateful. Sam maneuvered the glass displays in the jewelry shop like he worked there, examining pieces as if he were some kind of expert. Dean wouldn't be surprised if he was. The only person Dean knew that stored more trivial information in his brain than Sam was Cas.

He laughed a little to himself at the thought of Castiel in a mall. Considering the things Cas had done in his time as an angel, it was almost comical how easily overwhelmed he could get around too many people. The mall would be an overstimulation of all of Cas' senses and Dean was almost glad he wasn't here. Hell, it was too much for him and he'd been human his whole life.

It occurred to him that perhaps that was one of the reasons he liked (loved, whatever) Cas so much. Dean had lived his life around human beings, seen them react to all manner of emotions, from extreme love to crippling fear to devastating anger. He'd experienced most of those emotions himself, in some form or another. He'd spent ample time at bars and dives, picking up women in an attempt to comfort himself with the illusion of intimacy. But for all the time he'd had to experience humanity firsthand, he still always felt out of place around people. He had chalked it up to his upbringing. He'd been trained, as a small child, how to anticipate the way a monster would think, what a monster could feel, and to use that information to his advantage. His father hadn't spent too much time teaching his sons how to interact with their fellow human beings and for a long time, Dean hadn't minded. But he watched Sammy, raised the same way he'd been, and how easy it was for him to connect with people and he began to feel as though he'd missed something. It was like he'd been born without some crucial human piece that enabled him to bond with other people on a deeper level. Outside of his family, he couldn't quite bring himself to feel comfortable with the world around him.

And Cas understood this. More than most, in fact, considering he regarded humanity in much the same way. Cas had an excuse of course—he'd only been fully human for a couple of years—but around Cas, Dean didn't feel the need to explain or justify his uneasiness with the world.

"Dean, you actually have to look at these to pick one," Sam called, arms crossed in irritation. Dean had been hovering near the entrance noncommittally, hoping Sam would decide there was nothing here worth looking at. Dean knew Cas better than himself most days but he had no idea how to pick out an engagement ring for anyone, much less a man. As far as he knew, engagement rings were for women and mostly a superficial show of possessiveness he didn't particularly feel was necessary between him and Cas. But, as always, Sam insisted it was the right thing to do.

"It's a sign of solidarity, Dean," Sam had argued when Dean had scoffed at the idea of buying Cas a ring. It wasn't that he didn't feel one hundred percent committed to Cas or that he didn't want to be married to him. He did. More than he'd wanted anything in a long time. But a ring? The gesture seemed archaic, to say the least. Cas wouldn't want one. He probably wouldn't understand the need for it and explaining it to him would require vocalizing emotions that he had no idea how to express. He was prepared for the proposal in theory, but he still hadn't ironed out what he would say exactly and a small part of him (small, because Dean refused to give it more thought than it deserved) was afraid Cas would say no.

"Dean!"

Dean grumbled under his breath and made his way to his giant brother, avoiding direct eye contact with the salespeople. The last thing he needed was some botoxed old woman asking him about the "lucky girl" he was buying the ring for. Although, Dean thought amusedly, it might be fun to see their face when he explained that the ring was for a man.

"What do you think?" Sam asked, gesturing to the display case directly in front of them. It contained at least a dozen silver bands, presumably designed specifically for men and every single one looked exactly the same to Dean.

"Oh, I like the silver one," Dean said, sarcasm dripping in his words. Sam bitchfaced him.

"You're not making this any easier on yourself."

"Well, maybe it's because this whole endeavor is stupid."

Sam's bitch face seemed to intensify and Dean was mildly impressed. He didn't know Sam could even do that.

"I thought you wanted to marry Castiel."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean snapped.

"It means, you dragged me here, asked me to help you pick out a ring and now you don't even want to try. I know this is new for you, but you're being a jerk about it and it makes me wonder if you even want to do this at all."

Dean scowled at the brightly lit display case, turning Sam's words over in his mind. Truth be told, he didn't know what he wanted. He loved Cas. He knew that much. Loved him deeply and more intensely than he'd ever loved any person outside of Sam. And it kind of scared him shitless. He was a hunter, a nomad, a drifter. He didn't settle and he certainly didn't go out and buy engagement rings for former angels with perfect blue eyes and eternally sexed up hair. He was out of his depth and it wasn't a feeling he enjoyed.

"I don't know, Sammy," he finally replied. "I don't know what to do."

Sam pushed him out of the jewelry shop and Dean wondered if he was going to yell at him or something. He pulled them away from the throngs of people rushing past and into a corridor that led to the bathrooms.

"Talk," Sam said, swiveling to look at Dean.

Dean groaned. Sam wanted him to _talk about his feelings_ again and he wondered how he was the one in a relationship with a guy and Sam still managed to out-gay him. Sam was glaring down at him (he would never fully be okay with the fact that his younger, pain-in-the-ass brother could tower over him) still waiting for a response so Dean exhaled loudly.

"I want to marry Cas," he huffed out. "I mean, at least, I think I do. I—I mean, I love the guy, you know? He's weird and sometimes a little crazy—hell, sometimes _a lot_ crazy," Dean's mind drifts momentarily to an image of a bee-clad Cas atop the Impala, "but he's _my_ weird and _my_ crazy and the guy basically told Heaven to shove it on multiple occasions for me and who even does that? But," Dean had reached the important part of his speech and he was afraid now to even say it aloud. "What if he doesn't want to marry me, Sammy? What if I pull out some stupid platinum engraved ring and get down on one knee and do the whole proposal schtick and he just looks at me with that face like he's having an aneurysm and says no?"

Sam was staring at him now, a bemused expression on his face.

"What?" Dean snapped. "You asked."

Sam shook his head, as if dispelling some thought he'd been about to vocalize and grinned.

"Dean, there's no way of knowing for sure if Cas will say no or not, although I'd put my money on yes and I'm not a gambling man," Sam said, his voice that gentle, let-me-break-this-down-for-you-slow tone that usually drove Dean insane. "This is a leap of faith you have to take. The passion is in the risk."

Dean rolled his eyes. Sammy had been watching chick-flicks with Kevin again.

"Okay, but none of those overpriced pieces of metal looked right to me. I want something, I don't know, different for Cas. Something unique."

Sam nodded. "I understand. I have an idea."

Sam drove them back to the bunker, which surprised Dean. Cas was buried in a pile of books, a look of deep calm on his face. He looked up as the boys entered, his blue gaze searching.

"Dean? Sam? Is everything okay?"

Dean panicked. He'd intended to keep the ring shopping a secret, if only because he wanted Cas to be surprised when he finally proposed. But Cas was piercing him with that look that made Dean's insides quiver and made his heart stutter (something he'd only ever admit in the privacy of his own mind) and he had a distinct feeling he wouldn't be able to lie convincingly enough if Cas pressed him.

"Everything's fine, Cas. I wasn't feeling well so we came back. I'm gonna go upstairs and lie down for a while," Sam said calmly.

"I'm going to shower," Dean said quickly, not meeting Cas's gaze.

Cas looked quizzically between them, head tilted ever so slightly in confusion. Dean had to get away from him before his damn resolve caved. He turned on heel and very nearly ran up the stairs to his bedroom. Sam followed him, a smug smile on his face.

"Okay, genius. Now what?"

Sam grinned wider. "Dean, you've been lying to people your whole life and you can't keep it together for two minutes long enough to lie to Cas?"

Dean scowled. "I don't _want_ to lie to Cas. That's the difference."

Sam nodded, still smirking. "And you still doubt whether or not you should propose?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Can we get on with it? Why are we here? Don't tell me you have a stash of stolen engagement rings or something?"

Sam shook his head. "No. You have the ring already."

Dean blinked.

Sam sighed in exasperation and turned to the nightstand by Dean's bed. He rummaged through for a moment then pulled Dean's silver ring out and held it out to him.

Dean looked at Sam incredulously. "My beer opening ring?"

"It's yours, Dean. Something unique to you. You can have it resized and engraved. You've worn it for as long as I can remember. Marriage is about giving a part of yourself to someone and the proposal should be reflective of that. This ring is a part of who you are. Now it can be a part of who Cas is too."

"Sammy, you are such a girl."

"Dean."

"Sorry."

Dean turned the silver ring over in his hand. He supposed this ring, more than any he'd find in a store, embodied him. The issue now was choosing an engraving that embodied Cas. A few words that would sum up everything he felt and everything Cas was.

Hunting demons was easier.

_Castiel wandered the bunker aimlessly for two days after the fall of Heaven led him back to the bunker. He lacked the ability to focus on anything for too long, stopping to pull random books out of shelves and putting them back in the wrong places (this infuriated Sam, who was constantly on the verge of telling Cas to cut it out, but Dean kept him silenced), rummaging through kitchen drawers and drifting through the numerous rooms like a ghost. Dean imagined that's more or less what Cas felt like. He had lost his home and his family, but most of all, Castiel had lost his sense of self and to Dean he seemed a shell of his former character. Castiel had once commanded angelic armies, smote demons and resurrected the dead with the touch of his hands and he was now reduced to no better than the masses he had once been charged to protect. It was all well and good, Dean supposed, to love his Father's creations from afar but humanity was a different ballgame when you were off the bench and on the field. Dean figured Castiel would need to be allowed a period of adjustment, now that he wasn't running for his life. He made Cas breakfast every morning, which he rarely ate and coffee, which he drank entirely too much of, and generally left him to this thoughts. As time passed, however, Cas made small improvements. His appetite picked up and he began to follow a stricter bathing schedule (he hadn't understood why he needed to shower so often, or been keen to learn the intricacies shaving). He participated in hunts, if only from the safety of the bunker, relaying useful information to the brothers when needed. _

_ The most significant change happened three months after Dean had found Cas. Cas had taken to sleeping in Dean's room most nights. He usually fell asleep long before Dean went to bed and was awake before him most mornings so Dean barely registered his presence. Dean had asked Cas why he couldn't sleep in his own room—they had set up a bedroom for him several doors down from Dean's, but Castiel rarely used it—and Cas had shrugged and stared pensively into space before replying._

_ "I've never needed sleep before. At night, when I was needed on Earth and you slept, I would listen to Heaven. The songs of my brothers and sisters echoing in my mind was the most soothing sound in the world to me. And now it's gone. I can't hear anything. The silence is jarring and I find it difficult to rest. When I sleep in your bed, I can smell you in the sheets and when you fall asleep, the sound of your breathing is comforting. I don't feel…alone."_

_ Dean hadn't known how to reply to that, so he'd remained silent._

_ "Does it bother you, Dean?" Cas asked, looking worried. _

_ "No!" Dean said rather quickly. The truth was, he enjoyed sharing the space with Cas. He hadn't overanalyzed this, but he supposed it meant something. Dean finally had his own bedroom, something he hadn't been privileged to since before his mother's death, and he didn't mind sharing it with Castiel. He preferred it. Sleeping with Cas eased his mind. After years of him disappearing without notice, of Dean spending sleepless nights wondering where he was and prayers he could only hope would bring him back, having Cas a breath away was comforting. _

_ "Cas, I don't mind you sleeping with me. I—I like it," Dean said quietly, avoiding Cas's eyes. _

_ It was Cas's turn to be silent and after several moments of nothing, Dean dared a glance at him. _

_ Cas was staring at him with such intensity, Dean couldn't help but be reminded of the early days of their relationship, when Castiel was still an "Angel of the Lord" and still a dick. _

_ "Cas, I've said this before, but the last time someone looked at me that way—," Dean began, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but he was cut off by Cas throwing himself into Dean's arms and pushing his lips to Dean's mouth in a kiss. _

_ Dean stiffened momentarily. He wasn't sure what had happened, or what he'd said, but Cas was kissing him as if it was the last kiss he'd ever have and it made Dean wonder how long Cas had been waiting to do this. He felt Cas's tongue slip across his lips, looking for entry, and Dean parted his lips to allow it. Cas's body was aligned with his, and Dean could hear his heart pounding furiously against Dean's chest. He fisted his hand in Cas's already disheveled hair and tilted his head slightly, opening his mouth more and sighing into Cas's lips. _

_ Cas broke the kiss, pulling back from Dean and fixing him with lust blown eyes. Dean's stomach did a ridiculous flip and he dropped his arms and stepped back slightly. _

_ "Cas?"_

_ Cas moved towards him again, as if to kiss him once more, but Dean stopped him with a hand against his chest. _

_ "Cas, what was that?"_

_ "I believe it's called kissing, Dean."_

_ Dean rolled his eyes. There was the Cas he knew. _

_ "I mean, why did you kiss me?"_

_ Cas frowned. "Why did you kiss me back?"_

_ Dean considered the question. It had felt so normal, so natural, having Cas's lips pressed to his, having his body warm and firm against his. He'd kissed women—countless women—but never a man. He didn't even really think he was attracted to men. It was Castiel. If he admitted it to himself, it had always been Castiel, since the day he'd walked into that abandoned barn, strode right up to Dean and stared right into Dean's soul. He'd been waiting for that kiss for as long as Cas had. _

_ "It—I just—it felt good," Dean said lamely. He wasn't given to excessive displays of emotion, at least not verbally but Cas was looking at him like he was expecting more, so Dean cleared his throat nervously and continued. _

_ "I don't know, Cas. I guess we've always been leading to this, you know? Time was never right and you were an angel before—," he paused as Castiel flinched, but continued when he was not interrupted, "—and it didn't feel right, doing stuff with an Angel of the Lord and then you went dark side and I guess I've been making excuses to myself because it seemed weird for me to want this with a dude, not to mention an angel, but I think I've always wanted it 'cause I've always been in love with you." _

_ Dean had rambled himself into the confession and he blinked, slowly registering what he'd just said. Castiel, however, was smiling deeply, something he rarely did, even when he was happy. He moved towards Dean, placing the hand on his chest against his lips, kissing gently. _

_ "I love you as well, Dean."_

_ "Because you're human and you're stuck with me?"_

_ Cas's smile faltered and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "No, Dean. I have always loved you. We share a profound bond, from the moment I laid hands on you in Hell. You were meant for me, and I for you."_

_ Dean rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay, Shakespeare, relax. I just don't want you saying stuff like that just because your wings are clipped now."_

_ Cas sighed and it was tinged with exasperation. "Is there something you'd like to say, Dean?"_

_ Dean glanced away. "I don't know what you mean."_

_ Cas waited. _

_ "What if you get your mojo back and go back to heaven and I'm left alone again?" Dean said finally, huffing out the words in one long breath. "I just—I don't want to find out later that all of this was just a way to pass the time while you waited to get your wings back."_

_ Castiel laughed. Dean scowled at him, not finding anything funny with the situation. _

_ "I'm sorry, Dean. But, if I'm not mistaken, your concern is that I won't commit to you?"_

_ "Yeah, well…"_

_ Cas pulled him tighter against him, pressing soft kisses along his jaw and cheek before he dropped his impossibly low voice even lower and murmured, "Dean, I only ever needed wings to get to you. What use are they to me, when you're right here?"_

_ Dean leaned back slightly to grin down at Cas. "Well, aren't you smooth?"_

_ Cas smirked against Dean's neck. "I learned from the best."_

Cas watched Dean curiously. He'd woken unnaturally early, considering there were no leads on a case and therefore nowhere to be and he'd taken to pacing unnecessarily around the bunker. Cas had never seen Dean so wound up. It worried him. Stress was not becoming on Dean and it tended to lead to drunken bouts of off key singing and fights about nothing. He decided to take matters into his own hands.

Dean was sitting in a winged armchair in one of the bunker's three studies. His mind seemed buried in some deep thought and Cas considered leaving him to it, but then Dean met his gaze.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey Cas."

Cas sank into the armchair opposite Dean, watching him carefully. "You seem pensive today."

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing. Just thinking."

Cas smiled. "Yes. That's what pensive means."

Dean looked away. "Uh huh."

Cas frowned. "Dean?"

Dean seemed not to hear him. His eyes were focused on a point just behind Cas's shoulder. Cas stood up and moved to stand in front of Dean, leaning down and placing his hands on the arms of his chair so that they were eye level. "Dean."

Dean blinked and his eyes refocused on Cas's face.

"Cas, what are you doing?"

"What are _you_ doing, Dean? You've been acting very strangely."

Dean grimaced and tried to turn his head away from Cas's gaze. Cas gripped his chin and pulled him back.

"Talk to me, Dean."

"There's nothing to—"

Cas pressed his mouth to Dean's, stemming the flow of words. He wasn't interested in listening to Dean's protests and he expected Dean would be more willing to talk about whatever was preoccupying him if he was less tense. It was an underhanded move, but Cas had learned that fighting battles with Dean often meant not fighting at all.

Dean had leaned into the kiss willingly, sliding his tongue across Cas's lower lip before biting into it gently. Cas groaned into his mouth and pushed himself against Dean's legs, kneeling between his parted thighs. He slid a hot hand against Dean's growing erection, palming him through the denim.

"Cas," Dean growled, lifting Cas by his shoulders and pressing their bodies together. He kissed Cas's stubble, trailing down his neck and nipping at his collarbone. He slid his hands up Cas's white button down, laying his hand flat against his chest. Heat sparked from Dean's hand and set Cas's blood on fire. He had intended to keep the situation under control, but Dean was rutting against him and Cas could feel him hard against his thigh and his head was spinning—

"Cas, stop. Cas, please—,"

Cas blinked. Dean was holding him back gently, searching his face for something. Cas bit his lip and attempted to shake the desire clouding his brain.

"Dean?"

"Cas, will you marry me?"

Cas's blue eyes were the size of saucers and Dean thought they might pop out of his head.

"Cas?"

Cas blinked, finally, and looked down at Dean's hands. Dean figured he should probably have had the ring with him when he proposed but he hadn't anticipated doing it like this. He'd considered a romantic dinner or something along those lines but everything he thought of seemed too cliché, too extravagant, too simple—he felt like a gay Goldilocks. When Cas had pulled him into that kiss and set his skin ablaze with need, the emotions he'd been milling through for weeks, the fear he'd concocted in his brain, and the uncertainty he'd been wrestling with his whole life, melted into nothing. It was replaced with a sudden need to claim, to possess, to ensure that he would never have to spend another day without Castiel's touch or his eyes or his quiet acceptance of everything Dean was and everything Dean wasn't.

Cas was still silent, staring at Dean's hands, and despite his moment of clarity and his certainty about asking Cas to marry him, Dean was starting to get nervous.

"Cas," Dean repeated. "Say something. Please."

"Dean…is this—are you—are you sure?"

Dean blinked. He'd been expecting shock, but doubt?

"What do you mean? Of course, I'm sure. I love you, Cas," Dean said, searching Castiel's face for some indication of whatever was coursing through his mind. He couldn't fathom Cas being unsure of Dean's feelings. Castiel was always the confident one, who never had trouble expressing himself or understanding Dean's clumsy attempts at romance.

"I love you too, Dean," Cas said softly, not meeting Dean's gaze, which was unusual for him. "But I didn't—I imagined—I didn't think—"

"Just spit it out, Cas."

Cas chewed his lower lip nervously and brought his eyes up to Dean's, an uncharacteristic shyness clouding their brazen blue hue.

"I didn't imagine you would be so eager to marry me, or anyone for that matter. It's not in your nature to stay in one place too long."

Dean chuckled, relieved. "It's not in my nature because I've never had the opportunity," he countered, pulling Castiel onto his lap and twining their hands together. "I didn't think I'd ever get the chance, after my mom died. But I always wanted it. The further away the possibility got, the more I wanted it. With Lisa there were moments, when I wasn't torn up about Sam that I was happy, you know? I missed hunting, and I realize now I can't give it up, but with you I don't have to. I can have both. That's why it's right with you."

Cas ducked his head into Dean's neck, marking a trail of open mouthed kisses down to his collarbone. Dean leaned into the contact, tightening his hold on the other man's waist and tugging him closer. Cas brought his lips back up to Dean's before smiling widely and reaching into his pocket.

"I had intended to ask you first. I didn't think the possibility of marriage would ever occur to you and I didn't want to wait for you to come up with the idea on your own. Sam said I should give you the benefit of the doubt—I suppose he was right. In any case," Cas pulled out a small, black velvet box and pushed it into Dean's hand, "this is for you."

Dean's heart stuttered excitedly and he had to remind himself mentally not to be such a girl. He reached for the box and then realized it was only fair that Cas have his ring too.

"Wait here," he said abruptly, pushing Castiel off his lap and standing. He rushed up the stairs to his room and grabbed the royal blue ring box he'd kept hidden behind the picture of his mom on his dresser. Cas was standing in the same place Dean had left him when he returned, and his eyes snapped onto the box in Dean's hands and widened. Dean grinned.

"Sammy thought a ring would show solidarity or something. I couldn't find anything I liked anywhere. This was mine before. I hope—I hope that's okay."

He considered getting down on one knee but Cas hadn't and since the proposal was anything but traditional, he didn't see the point of changing it now. Theirs was not a traditional romance. It was what Dean loved most about it.

Cas was turning the blue box over and over in his hands, and he looked nervous again.

"Wanna do it together?"

Cas looked up at Dean and nodded, moving to bridge the distance between them. Dean picked up the black box. "Count of three?"

Cas nodded minutely. "One…"

"Two…"

"Three," they said in unison. Simultaneously, they flipped open the ring boxes. Nestled in the velvet of the black box was a platinum band, engraved all the way around with Enochian sigils. Dean pulled the ring out and turned it over in his hands. Etched on the inside were the words, _I love you_, framed by angel wings. Dean laughed.

Cas had pulled his ring out and was staring at the inside engraving as well.

"Wings," he said quietly. "We both chose wings."

Dean had chosen angel wings and their initials. He had sifted through countless phrases and words, none of which said exactly what Dean wanted to convey. In the end, he decided words weren't always necessary to show love.

"Looks like it," Dean said, sliding his ring onto his hand. "I thought it would be, you know, nice. You have your wings back in some form now."

Castiel smiled. "You are my wings, Dean. You carry me."

Dean took the ring out of Cas's hands and slid the band on. "We carry each other."

"Does this mean you'll marry me?" Castiel asked, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist.

"As long as I don't have to wear a dress."

"Hmm…and here I was looking forward to seeing you in something strapless," Cas murmured against Dean's pulse. Dean laughed.

"Aren't you funny," he said, tipping Cas's chin up to touch their lips together.

"I learned from the best," Cas replied easily.


End file.
